


Duo Infernale

by ninamalfoy



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Betaed, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-13
Updated: 2010-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninamalfoy/pseuds/ninamalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after <a href="http://www.zdf.de/ZDFde/inhalt/19/0,1872,2199219,00.html">the interview</a> at the 'Wetten dass?' studio and their <a href="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y188/neenski/footieslash/37SN_WD_0210VM.jpg">guest</a> <a href="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y188/neenski/footieslash/38SN_WD_0210VM.jpg">appearance</a>...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duo Infernale

**Author's Note:**

> First published on LJ on May 24th, 2005.
> 
> Not true in the least bit. I'm just borrowing their public persona to play.
> 
> Heaps of praise and very well-deserved thanks for the lovely cerulean_eyes for a great beta! I so owe you, Niña. Really. :-)

"Damn, I'm not cut out to be an invalid," Basti grumbles, after lowering himself slowly into Metze's car. It's plainly visible that he would love to chuck off the damn brace, but he knows what's good for him and what isn't.

"But you make a rather sexy invalid," Metze leers, igniting the engine and edging out of the parking space. Basti snorts. "One who can't have proper sex, thank you very much."

"No proper sex?" Metze raises an eyebrow at him. "And just what would you call what we did this morning?"

"Oh, _that_," Basti says. "That was just a handjob. Although an excellent one, I must say."

"Thank you so very much," Metze deadpans, navigating the car through the heavy traffic. He doesn't like to drive through Cologne, because the city is notorious for its many one-way streets which hinder efficient driving somewhat.

Basti fiddles with the radio, changing stations until he's got Eins Live. Some German pop, not too bad. Metze smiles and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. He knows that Basti had been itching to go out and explore the Cologne night life, but with the brace that hadn't been possible. And that's the reason why they're on their way back to Dortmund instead of going out with Jessica, who had invited them after the interview to tag along with her to meet her boyfriend Daniel and other assorted friends.

Suddenly Basti's hand is on his thigh, edging up slowly. Metze hisses, "Keep your hands to yourself, Basti, or I won't be able to account for our lives or to explain to Marwijk how exactly we ended up in a car crash unconscious and with hard-ons."

"Well, excuse me for providing you with some excitement and thrill," Basti says, retracting his hand. Metze just rolls his eyes. Basti's just bored and he's in a bit of a bad mood because of being injured. When they're home, he'll show him a good time. Yes. He smirks to himself, whistling along to the melody. Suddenly Basti reaches behind him, and Metze hears the faint whirring of the backseat being lowered.

"Want to catch some z's?", he asks, shifting the gear into 4th, overtaking a huge lorry.

"Something like that," Basti says, and there's something in his voice that Metze has dubbed the 'come-hither'-accent. Basti is up to _something_.

And he's proven right when his best friend is slowly popping open the buttons of his fly, one after one.

"Just drive and I'll take care of this," Basti says, smirking. He isn't smirking, actually, but Metze can _hear_ it. And he's now edging out of his jacket, shifting slightly to push the well-worn jeans down a bit, and then the jacket covers the last tantalizing glimpse of the white tight briefs.

"What the hell are you doing, _Sebastian?_", Metze hisses, as Basti's hands disappear under the jacket.

*

Basti knows that Metze only calls him by his full name when he's pissed off, but gods, it's just what he needed... arching into his touch, he moans, closing his eyes and concentrating entirely on his cock's throb. He imagines that it's Metze's hand enveloping his swelling erection, the strongsure touch, comforting and sexy, and he spreads his legs a bit, giving himself more room, stroking himself firmly, secretly thrilled by the thought that he's torturing Metze.

The strokes get faster and faster, and he presses down, wanting to prolong the jerk-off, and reaches down, his damp fingers curling around his balls, tugging gently, massaging them and he bites his lip, feeling the tendrils of desire expanding all throughout his body, hotwantingheavy.

*

Gripping the steering wheel, Metze considers crashing into the car in front of them and ending this charade, because, they're now on the damned fucking _autobahn_ and he really can't stop now because -

Basti moans, loudly. And underneath the jacket on his lap, there's movement, and Metze's brain is entirely _too_ helpful in supplying him with lurid images in fucking 3D Technicolor of what's going on down _there_...

Basti could have made the Spanish Inquisition look like a fucking kindergarten, really.

"Stop it, Basti!" And no, he didn't yell that, he didn't press down on the gas, he didn't just go up to 150 km/h on the autobahn, wanting to get to the next exit, goddamn, there has to be one coming soon, and –

"Why should I?", Basti breathes, heavily, and Metze knows _exactly_ what he's looking like now, flushed, half-hooded eyes, this damnable tongue wetting his lips… and Basti hasn't stopped.

"Fuck you," he hisses, glad for the sign of a gas station flashing by, changing into the right lane.

"That's the spirit," Basti moans, and his hips buck sharply, and Metze knows that he's that close to coming.

"Just you wait," and then Metze's parking the car in the slot that's farthest from the gas station, tires screeching, and he's out of his seatbelt, and then he's bending over, crushing their mouths together, their teeth scraping, and his hands take over control, pushing away Basti's own, closing over hardhotdamp flesh.

Despite the close and very cramped quarters, they somehow make it work, but most of it is borne from sheer desire and hunger, and Basti's hands are fumbling around with Metze's jeans' zipper, and amongst open-mouthed kisses and grappling for hold on sweatyslick flesh, Metze's shirt bunched up around his ribs, his jeans pooling around his knees and when Basti's hand draws out his aching cock, he moans into their passionate kiss, wanting to taste him, wanting _more_.

When his fingers slip into the sweaty asscrack, Basti's fingers clench into his hair, and Metze hisses slightly, the pain clearing the sex-induced haze somewhat, and then Basti's pressing down, gasped words halfmuffled by bitinghungry kisses.

*

It's too fucking good, it's perfect, and the thrill of getting caught like this, in Metze's car, the windows already steaming up a bit, the thrill just adds to the sizzlingbubbling feel that is surging through Basti, concentrating on his groin, on Metze's hands being _everywhere_, on his cock, squeezing, massaging his balls and stroking his cleft, and he groans into Metze's mouth, his body jerking, pressingdownthrustingup, wanting _more_, and Metze's cock is hotheavy in his hand, throbbing, and he strokes it hard, feeling the first drops of come moisten his fingers.

Suddenly Metze stills all his movements, releasing his cock to grasp his hipbone, and their mouths break free, and he pulls back so that his cock slides out of Basti's grasp. Basti groans, squirming, wanting him to go on, but Metze's grip is too strong and he gives in. He looks at Metze, taking in his best friend's flushed face, the slight hair on his chest forming a trail down to the flushedwet cock, the abdomen heaving slightly.

"What are you waiting for?", he asks, spreading his legs a bit – just that much that he can manage with the jeans bunched up over his brace and drawn down his thigh on the other leg. Metze just smiles at him, raking over him with his determined look, and Basti feels a pleasant tingle sizzling up his spine.

"Just enjoying the view, Basti."

"The view? Well, with my godlike body that's quite understandable," Basti says, grinning.

"You are incorrigible, Kehli," Metze groans, but the smile is still on his lips. He reaches behind him, fumbling around until the back of his seat is lowering and then he's back, kissing Basti, but it isn't as heated-up as their previous kisses, it's a sweetsoft kiss. His hand's tugging at Basti's shirt, pulling it up and then his nipples are being caressedstroked. Basti's cock is complaining a bit about the lack of attention, but Basti knows that if Metze has got his heart set on something, it's going to happen _this_ way, no matter what, and so he gives in, carding through Metze's hair, scratching his neck slightly and he feels Metze shudder slightly. He grins into the kiss and then Metze's hand is on his stomach, rubbing it, and gentle warmth spreads throughout Basti's still high-wired body, calming him somewhat.

"Your body isn't too bad, Basti," Metze says, pulling back and smiling.

"Not too bad?", Basti says, mock-pouting. "And that from the guy that screws me on a regular basis? Because of the 'not-too-bad' body?"

"Well, there are other things, too," Metze says, edging as close as he can, the crampedness of the car hindering his movements somewhat.

Basti smiles lazily. "And these would be?"

"Let me show you," Metze says, and then his mouth is back on Basti, on his neck, on that very spot, and he hisses, feeling goosebumps spread from this point all over his skin, pulling at the damned shirt, wanting to feel Metze _naked_, or as naked as he can get him to be, and Metze complies, and then the shirt lands in a heap on the back seats and then Metze's suckinglicking, and Basti groans, and then he hears Metze whispering something, not catching it, and then Metze's tongue licks a broad swipe over his nipple, with a gust of cold air following up right afterwards, and it jolts Basti, damn, and then he hears "…determination…", and now it's the other nipple's turn, "…strength…" and he clutches Metze's broad shoulders, cursing the damned brace to hell and back because he'd love to straddle Metze right here and now, repay him for this sweet torture.

The whispering continues ("the damn stupid jokes"), and Basti ("beauty") is suffering the full onslaught of a very dedicated Metze ("perfectionism") who's currently tongueing his bellybutton, and ("eagerness") damnit, he could use that very talented ("warmth") tongue further down, yes ("voice"), ohsoverygood, and whenever his cock brushes Metze's jaw ("taste"), it's impossible to keep silent, and Basti whimpers ("noises"), biting on his lip, holding onto the car door handle ("sweat"), and if he'll rip it off it'll be only Metze's fault.

"And the love."

With these words, wethotwarmth closes over his cock, and damn if he's not actually seeing stars, and Basti moans, his whole focus concentrated entirely on his cock, and Metze's languidly swirling his tongue around it, holding onto the base of the cock with his hand and thus hindering Basti's desperate urge to just _thrust_, thrust into this beautifulsweetwicked mouth, and then Metze's teeth just _touch_ this place on the underside of Basti's cock, scraping so very slightly, and he yells, his hand digging into Metze's shoulder, forcing him to stay down there, damnit, sososoclose, and when Metze's taking as much of his cock in his mouth Basti feels his cock slide along the palate and then it's in Metze's throat, tighthotness, and damn, he is teetering on the brink, staring down into the blindingwhite abyss, and when Metze _hums_ around his cock, fuck.

He comes, screamingshaking, and when he's floating down, he hears a muffled cough and the first thing he sees is Metze's face, flushed, and he's wiping his mouth. Basti can't even get his mouth to smile, but somehow Metze gets it, and the crinkles around his eyes tighten, and yes. It's love.

"Your reasons for screwing me are entirely justified," Basti finally says, and then Metze's mouth closes over his, and he tastes himself, something that he has gotten accustomed to already, but it never fails to turn him on, the images of Metze working his cock flashing by, his cheeks hollowing, tending to Basti as if he was something to be devoured mercilessly, to the last drop – well, it's fucking hot. And so he's sliding a warm hand over Metze's back, stroking, their tongues duelling lazily with each other, and then he trails his fingers around Metze's side, the defender giggling into their kiss, shifting slightly to escape his fingers – oh yes, Metze's ticklish – and then his hand's settling on the rather prominent bulge.

"How do you like it?", Basti asks, palmingrubbing the crotch gently, evoking just a long moan from Metze. He smiles, knowing that his best friend is pretty close, judging from the feeltouch, and he quickly unzips the fly, sliding his hand into the tight boxers, but not before smoothing his fingers over the wet spot in front. Another groan, deepdrawn-out.

"You're so _fucking_ beautiful, Christoph," Basti whispers, pressing his nose into that junction between shoulder and neck, breathing in Metze's unique scent, a faint whiff of aftershave, sweat and something that will always remind him of Metze, something clearstrong. His hand closes around Metze's hot length, relishing the familiar feel. Employing just the right amount of squeezestroke, he mouths Metze's neck, wincing slightly at Metze's grip on his hair stiffening, and he slides his hand down the shaft to the balls, holding them in his hand and stroking them, squeezing a bit, and Metze bites at his earlobe, his hot tongue trailing around his earlobe. Basti's ears are filled with small moangrunts, and he resumes his jerk-off, pacing it faster than before, his hand now slick with Metze's precome, and then Metze has his neck in a death grip, plundering his mouth as if he were the biggest treasure in the whole world, and just as asphyxiation would be a clear cause of death, a great shudder racks Metze's body and he's moaning loudly into Basti's mouth, his cock jerkingspurting in Basti's hand, and then he falls back into his seat, breathing heavily, his eyes closed.

Basti exhales as well. The car's windows are totally steamed up now, and it's getting darker now, the light teetering on the brink between afternoon glow and dusk. They're fucking lucky that no one came to see what the noises were about, but then, they are a horny couple and it's not as if there's a shortage of these around.

He listens to Metze's breath even out, and when a warmdamp hand closes over his own, he squeezes back, not letting go.

*

"Eh, Metze?"

"Yes?" Metze's pulling the car out of the parking space, looking around to see if there are any other cars behind them.

"Lars asked me yesterday to keep the PS2ing down next time we're rooming next to him again," Basti says matter-of-factly, turning around to look at Metze.

"PS2ing? But we never did - oh." Metze's blushing, but he's sneaking a look at Basti, grinning.

"Yes, _oh,_" Basti smirks back.

"Well... maybe we _did_ squeeze our joysticks too hard - but then, sometimes you just need it - to push our buttons, no?", deadpans Metze, setting the indicator.

Basti looks at him, an eyebrow raised. "Joysticks? God, Metze, that has to be the... damn, now I can't ever look at a fucking _joystick_ again without..."

"Well, they do provide joy, too," Metze leers. Payback is sweet, especially for what Basti pulled just now. Granted, he did profit from it, too, and in a very spectacular fashion, but the next time Basti's mopey he'd better make sure they're in either flat or somewhere deserted. Very deserted. And that they're not in his car. He's not sure he'll be able to get the come stains out of the leather.


End file.
